Reset
by Dark Aegis
Summary: Time isn't a straight line. Sometimes it loops back before going forward again. Sometimes it's meant to do that. Most of the time it isn't. A Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Jack Harkness adventure.
1. Chapter 1: Rewind

**Title:** Reset  
**Authors:** Gillian Taylor  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Characters:** Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Jack Harkness  
**Summary:** Time isn't a straight line. Sometimes it loops back before going forward again. Sometimes it's meant to do that. Most of the time it isn't.  
**Spoilers:** Up to _Empty Child/Doctor Dances_  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.  
**Archive:** Sure, just let me know.

**A/N:** Written for the Anywhere But Cardiff ficathon on the LJ Community Time And Chips. Thanks, as always, to my fantastic betas WMR and Ponygirl.

* * *

**Reset  
by Gillian Taylor**

**Chapter 1: Rewind**

The city is dying. It's only truly obvious at night, when the pale starlight is all that bathes the decrepit buildings in its silvery glow. There are no lights, no power, nothing to fight off the darkness. When she sees people, they walk with a slow, plodding step, their faces etched in despair, as though they know without a shadow of doubt that the end is near.

Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees the city as it once was – brilliant and gleaming, and a shining example of everything humanity can do in the future. But it's a lie that's stolen away the moment she blinks, the moment she gets distracted by something the Doctor says, something Jack says.

It seems, at times, that they've been here forever. Walking the same path, tracing the same steps, over and over again in some deity's game of chance. The Doctor said that something is wrong here, something terribly, terribly wrong, and she agrees. Death surrounds them. There are a few people that fight against it, yes, but for the most part they are resigned to its inevitability.

When they first arrived on Mars – Mars! She still can't believe that she's on Earth's sister planet – the Doctor said that there was something wrong with time. Nothing more specific than that. 'Something wrong'. Rose wanted to ask if that meant the Reapers would come, but she held her tongue. She didn't want to resurrect those memories, those feelings, of when she destroyed the world and him.

So they investigated, poked around, got into trouble and out of it again. But nothing revealed itself as a possible source, a possible cause. There didn't seem to be a problem here, despite the Doctor's insistence.

They can't save these people, she knows. What happens here is their fault, their own downward spiral. She wishes she could do more here, save lives, but she can't. Not really. Not now. These are the dying moments of a civilisation. Soon – a few years, a century, more – this place will be gone. Swallowed by time and there will be nothing left.

She thinks, in those quiet times, when she lets herself do nothing but feel, that she can sympathise. That was the Rose Tyler before the Doctor, swallowed by Time, leaving something new in its wake. The Rose Tyler she is now, the one who gets into trouble, who laughs and jokes and lives with a Time Lord and a former conman, is something new, something different.

Sometimes she suspects she can see the world as he does, see time stretching out before her. Sometimes, she knows she can. Even here, surrounded by death, she thinks she knows what concerns the Doctor. She can feel it in the air, taste it on her tongue.

"All right?" the Doctor asks, his fingers tightening slightly around hers.

She shrugs. "Yeah. I'm fine." What she can't tell him is that something is starting to creep up on her, a sensation like déjà vu, but not exactly.

Jack gives her a look and something in his eyes, perhaps the uneasiness that she finds there, doesn't reassure her.

She reaches out, entwining her fingers with Jack's, trying to draw as much comfort as she can from their presence. Something is wrong, but she can't explain it. Something is coming, but she knows it's already here.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, startling in the relative silence of the city. She draws closer to the Doctor, unsure of just what's causing her unease. They're almost back to the TARDIS. She knows that she'll be able to relax there, that they'll be safe. They just have to make it in time.

Something of her urgency must transfer to the Doctor as he quickens his pace.

A crack of thunder, far too close, causes them all to jump. "That's not thunder," Jack says, frowning at her side.

The Doctor's expression is grim as he nods. "No, it isn't."

Just ahead of them, she can see Sarassen, one of the locals who had taken a particular shine to the Doctor. He's holding something in between his hands, turning it over and over again. When he looks up at them, there's something dead behind his eyes. Desperation and death intermingled.

"You can't stop me," Sarassen says. "Not this time."

The Doctor releases her hand, telling her without words to stay with Jack. "Call me a bit thick, but what're you on about?"

Sarassen laughs and there's something bitter lacing its tone. "You already know, _Time Lord_."

She's confused. How does he know what the Doctor is? He never told Sarassen, as far as she knows.

"Nope, sorry. Already told you. I'm a bit thick. Might have to spell it out for me," the Doctor says, smiling.

Sarassen laughs again and she knows he's going to do something. She cries out, slipping free from the Doctor's and Jack's restraining hands to reach towards Sarassen. That device in his hands – what is it? – Saraseen's squeezing it and she's grasping the cloth of his shirt and Jack's hand is on her shoulder and there's a brilliant flash of something like lightning and it's arcing towards the TARDIS and the Doctor's shouting and-

Then there's nothing at all.

* * *

_Eighteen Hours Ago_

"No, wait, let me guess," Rose says, laughing. "You end up naked an' you're running away from some monster or something an' don't stop until you hit the space-lanes?"

Jack grins. "Oh, you already know the punch line!"

"That's 'cause it never changes, Captain," the Doctor says from his position half-underneath the TARDIS console.

"What can I say?" Jack asks, spreading his arms open wide. "I'm easy."

She giggles, leaning against the back of what Jack mockingly calls 'his' chair. "We already know that. So, don't you know any stories where you don't end up naked?" She's really starting to suspect that he doesn't. It's either that or he just likes to get a reaction out of both herself and the Doctor. Then again, that sounds far more likely.

"None worth telling," Jack solemnly replies.

A momentary pang of something akin to déjà vu tingles up her spine. Their words are familiar for some reason. "Wait. Have we talked about this before?"

"What? My nakedness? Plenty of times. Offered to show you, too, but you keep turning me down."

At any other time, she would've used that opening. Would've said something cheeky or teased Jack about his need to show off, but not this time. "No. I mean this. This conversation. This exact conversation. Seems familiar for some reason." She shakes her head. "Ignore me. Probably didn't get enough sleep last night or somethin'. It's nothing."

"I could help with that," Jack says.

"I'm sure you could," she replies, grinning. "So, where're we going next?"

"How about-" the Doctor begins, but his words are cut off by the sound of a siren. There's a loud thump from underneath the console, followed by a string of words that the TARDIS refuses to translate.

Jack's already at the console by the time she disentangles her legs from underneath her and the Doctor's extracted himself from the console. She knows that sound far too well. "Mauve," she says.

"That's right," the Doctor says, flipping several switches and directing Jack to do the same. "Mauve and dangerous, certainly. Oh, no. That's impossible." The Doctor's talking to himself now, barely acknowledging herself or Jack. "That shouldn't exist. Can't exist!"

"What is it?" she asks.

The Doctor gives her an unreadable look as he twists a knob. The TARDIS quakes in response and she's forced to grab hold of the railing in an almost futile attempt to remain upright.

"Oh no you don't. You're not getting away from me that easily! Jack, red button, top right," the Doctor says, gesturing towards the appropriate place.

The quake becomes violent the instant that Jack's fingers touch the button. She grips the railing with both hands, her knuckles clenched white as she fights to retain her footing.

Seemingly oblivious to the tremors, the Doctor moves around the console, continuing to flip switches, twist knobs and pump the bicycle pump without regard to how she and Jack are holding on for dear life. She worries that the TARDIS is going to shake apart – hordes of Genghis Khan not withstanding. How much can even the TARDIS withstand, especially when it feels like her teeth are trying to rattle free from her jaw?

Just as she's about to voice the question – though she doesn't really want to know – everything stills. It takes her a moment to convince her fingers to let go of her death grip, still somewhat surprised that she didn't end up in a heap on the floor.

"Well, that was fun," Jack says dryly. She turns her head to see him carefully picking himself up off the floor. "Doesn't your ship know that there're easier ways of getting me on my back? All she has to do is ask. "

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Stop flirting with the TARDIS."

"Oh, but she likes it," Jack says, patting the console. "Don't you, girl?"

The Doctor folds his arms in front of himself and gives Jack a look that she suspects could melt lead as the ship's hum deepens in response.

"Should I leave you three alone?" she asks, catching her tongue between her teeth as she grins. "'Cause you know, I can go out an' explore by myself."

Jack reaches out and snakes an arm around her waist, pulling her into a half-hug. "Nah. You can get between us any time you like."

She laughs and pushes him playfully away, slipping free of the embrace to approach the Doctor. "So, where are we?"

The Doctor frowns as he turns to the console, tapping in a few commands. "I don't know," he finally says. "The old girl's refusing to respond."

The hairs at the nape of her neck rise as a chill runs down her spine. The Doctor's expression and his words are striking a chord. Impossible, though. This hasn't happened before.

Or has it?

Shivering, she wraps her arms around herself as Jack joins the Doctor at the console. Several minutes pass where they debate transistors, polarity and something about neutrons. None of it makes any sense but, judging by their expressions, the debate isn't helping.

"Only one thing for it, then," the Doctor says.

"What's that?" she asks, needing to contribute something.

"We take a look for ourselves," he replies and turns on his heel to head towards the doors. He pauses before the exit, resting his hand against the handle. "Coming?"

Both she and Jack have to run to catch up with him as he opens the doors and steps outside.

* * *

"Mars," Jack says the instant his feet touch the red soil. He'd recognise this dust anywhere. Got enough of it on him at one point where he was thoroughly sick of the colour for at least a year. Or was it two?

Rose's eyes are wide as she looks around them, taking in the view. There's something different about Mars. Maybe it's because it's the closest planet to Earth or maybe it's the memory of the Ice Warriors that still cling to the soil, but it always gives him the willies. Then again, that could also just be the memory of the last time he was here.

Judging by the air, not to mention the shabby-looking city just ahead of them, it's got to be at least the sixty-ninth century, give or take a hundred years. After Earth's overpopulation got to be too much, humans started to move to the neighbouring planets, never mind whether those planets were populated or not. The Ice Warriors had long abandoned their homeworld, leaving behind ruins that the humans happily adapted into their own dwellings as they terraformed the planet.

They just never counted on the fact that the soil was never meant to sustain terran life. Eventually, Mars will be abandoned again as a dying world. These are just last dying breaths of this particular civilisation.

"When?" Rose asks. She could've asked about the city or even the air, but she didn't. That's what he likes about Rose. She asks clever questions.

Before he can answer, the Doctor replies, "Sixty-ninth century by your reckoning. Locals call it…"

"1969," Jack concludes. The Doctor gives him a questioning look and he shrugs. "That's what the Agency always called it. The dying days of the century of love."

"Doesn't look like this place has got a lot to do with hippies," Rose says and he grins.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Free love is very popular nowadays."

"Thought you said you're from the fifty-first century." Rose is giving him a suspicious glance.

"Oh, I am. I suppose you could say that I'm just a free loving kind of guy. Born in the wrong century, that's me."

"Something's wrong," the Doctor says suddenly.

Jack's hand is immediately freeing his blaster from its holster at his side, scanning the area for danger. "What is it?" he asks.

"There's something wrong with time," the Doctor answers cryptically and holds out his hand. For the briefest of seconds he wonders why the Doctor's asking to hold his hand before Rose's slips into place. He doesn't question the pang that shoots through him at the movement. After all, it's not often that he gets to travel with two gorgeous, and completely oblivious, companions.

"What's wrong with it?" Rose watches the Doctor carefully, almost as if she's trying to read the man behind the Time Lord's eyes. There've been plenty of times that he's suspected she can.

The Doctor shrugs. "Your language doesn't have the words for it. It's wrong."

Thanks, Doc. That helps ever so much. He shakes his head as he lets his fingers relax their grip on the blaster. "Well, we're not learning anything just standing around here. Might as well investigate. Maybe there's something in the city that can tell us what's so mauve about this place?"

The look on the Doctor's face isn't reassuring. If anything, it's enough to make him want to turn around and head back to the TARDIS. He doesn't, though. That's the Doctor's and Rose's faults.

They walk to the city in silence. Mars, especially the Mars of this era, isn't exactly the holiday spot of the universe. Most strangers are greeted with dislike, if not open hostility. He's about to warn his friends when someone steps out into the street in front of them, his hand extended towards the Doctor and a beguiling smile on his face.

"Welcome to Founder's Landing," the man says. "My name is Sarassen ne Therasil."

Something about the man doesn't sit right with him, but he can't explain what it is or even why. Instinct has him watching the man suspiciously. So far he hasn't done anything particularly threatening, but he's still unconvinced.

The Doctor's smiling as he reaches out and shakes the man's hand. "Hello! I'm the Doctor. This is Rose and that's Jack."

"Pleasure, I'm sure," Sarassen says. There's a flicker of something in the other man's eyes that he's tempted to call hatred, but that doesn't make sense. Why would he hate them? "What brings you to our city?"

He's about to say something, but the Doctor beats him to it. "Promised Rose that I'd show her Mars, actually. She's never been for all her livin' practically next door."

Sarassen's smile falters, but remains all the same. "You have come a few centuries too late if you truly wished to see this city at its best."

Rose shakes her head. "I think it's brilliant," she says. The surprise to him is that she means it. He knew that she wasn't a typical girl from her century before. After all, most of her fellow humans would've been curled in a protective ball and crying by now. Not Rose, though.

She seems to see potential where all he can see is decay. It occurs to him that maybe this is what the Doctor sees in her.

"I will leave you to your explorations, my friends. Knock on any door you wish to enter. If those who live there wish it, they will let you in." Sarassen bowed slightly from his waist, directing the gesture towards the Doctor.

Suspicion has him watching the other man as he leaves, carefully taking note of his direction and speed until he disappears behind a building. He isn't certain which he prefers – having Sarassen gone or having him close.

"I don't trust him," Rose states, startling him with the directness of that statement.

Something of his astonishment must be evident as she turns to him with a brief smile. "Thought you said this time is known as the century of love. If anything, I would've expected 'im to flirt. To say something. He did nothing of the sort. Could've been someone from my time, actually. Seems a bit off, that's all."

"Could be his surroundings," he says, glancing around at the gloomy, decrepit city. "I might not feel like… Nope. You're right. He's just not natural."

Rose's grin makes him feel like he's on top of the world.

"If you're finished?" the Doctor asks, giving him a nearly indecipherable look. On one hand, it might be frustration and aggravation. On the other, it might be regret.

He chooses to believe it to be the latter. Grinning, he moves to stand next to the Doctor, shoulder barely brushing the other man's leather jacket. "No need to insult me, Doc. I can keep going for hours." He indulges in a leer.

The Doctor doesn't bother to respond, instead turning his attention to his sonic screwdriver. "There're strong electromagnetic readings in this direction…" The Time Lord sets off at a rapid pace and, once again, both he and Rose are forced to scramble to keep up.

* * *

She isn't certain what she thought they'd find when they discovered the source of the mauve alert. Something in danger of exploding, perhaps. Or a dangerous alien artefact or a rebellion or an evil alien that's decided Mars is his new murdering ground.

That it turns out to be nothing more than a broken communications circuit is almost depressing. At least it would be if she hadn't been expecting it. Sighing, she rubs her eyes as she half-listens to the fervent apologies of the city's Lord Mayor.

Like the rest of the city, this control centre seems to be barely standing. Computers spark and groan around them. The lights are barely functional and it's only thanks to the wide window that she can even see the Lord Mayor's face.

Jack and the Doctor are huddled around the faulty communications grid. Neither one seem to be paying attention to the Lord Mayor, unless it's to cut across his apologies with a pointed question. The grid is dismantled, they're trying to fix it, but all she wants to do is leave.

Damnit. This isn't like her. She should be asking questions, learning more about the city and the Lord Mayor himself. She should be helping the Doctor, helping Jack, as they struggle to repair the broken machine.

"…you're missing a control crystal. Has anyone…?" Jack's voice intrudes on her thoughts, but she doesn't let herself focus on what's being said. Not just yet.

She's focusing on the strange, almost nebulous, feeling that's been growing in her mind ever since they got here. Before that, if she's honest with herself. She knows what's going to happen.

No. That's impossible. No-one knows the future. Maybe the Doctor does, or even Jack, but not to this degree of certainty.

Maybe she should tell the Doctor about this. The sense that every event is predictable, down to the Lord Mayor's snorting laugh, is almost overpowering. Logically, she knows this hasn't happened before. She's never been to Mars. She's never met the Lord Mayor or Sarassen or anyone else on this planet.

This city isn't familiar, the events aren't the same as they always have been and she just needs a good night's rest to get over this. That's the simple answer.

Rose suspects that the answer she's looking for is anything but.

She shivers as a chill runs up her spine, a certainty that something's terribly wrong. Is this what the Doctor meant by 'something's wrong with time'? Is this what he felt? She looks at him, but his attention is on the Lord Mayor.

Something just barely visible through the window catches her attention and she finds herself moving away from the others to investigate. From this height, at least five storeys off the ground, she can see well down the main street that leads through the city. But what causes her to pause isn't her surroundings. It isn't even the few people that she can see hurrying towards their destinations.

It's Sarassen.

He's holding something in his hands, looking upwards. Despite the fact that he can't possibly know she's there, she gets the distinct impression that he's staring at her.

Thunder rumbles through the building and she blinks at the sound, somehow linking it to the man on the street below.

"That's not thunder," she corrects herself.

But before she can analyse the thought, there's another crack of thunder and the world turns brilliantly, painfully white.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2: Temporal Recursion

**Chapter 2: Temporal Recursion**

"No, wait, let me guess," Rose says, laughing. "You end up naked an' you're running away from some monster or something an' don't stop until you hit the space-lanes?"

Jack shakes his head in a futile attempt to remove the unease that's flowing through him. He was doing something else, something before this. Something with a communications grid? But he also knows that he was right here, talking to Rose and the Doctor. What the hell is going on? "The punch line is a little obvious, isn't it?" he asks, deliberately changing what he knows he said or will say. Damn semantics.

"That's 'cause it never changes, Captain," the Doctor says from his position half-underneath the TARDIS console.

"I-" he begins and cuts himself off, rubbing at his temple with one hand. Something's not right.

"Jack? Are you all right?" Rose asks as her brow furrows in concern.

"Yeah, fine," he replies. "I'm fine." His voice cracks a little on the last word and he silently curses himself. He used to be a good conman, a first-rate liar. Now he's barely able to manage the simplest of lies in front of these two.

Damnit.

The Doctor pushes himself out from underneath the console and looks at him in that way that makes him feel like his soul is being weighed and measured. He still doesn't know why the Doctor seems to find him worthy. "What's wrong?" the Doctor asks. No assumptions, no accusations, just a simple question.

He shrugs helplessly. "It just seems like this is familiar."

"The TARDIS? Or this situation?" the Doctor asks and he's about to snap a reply before he sees that the Doctor is completely serious.

"Yes. No. Both. I don't know." He releases an exasperated sigh as he nudges Rose over to take a seat beside her on the chair.

"You'll have to be a bit clearer than that, Captain," the Doctor says as he leans against the console.

"There's just-" He sighs as he pinches his nose, willing himself to get his thoughts together. "- something wrong…"

He doesn't get the chance to finish his comment. Instead, his words are drowned out by the wail of an alarm. The Doctor turns immediately to the console and begins to flip switches and turn knobs.

"Mauve," Rose says and a chill runs up his spine at her words. Yes, mauve. A mauve alert.

What happens or will happen next? His thoughts are hazy, indistinct. He knows this has happened before, despite appearances. This entire situation is the same, yet different.

God, it's enough to give him a migraine. Not to mention enough to terrify him.

"Mauve and dangerous, certainly. Oh, no. That's impossible. That shouldn't exist. Can't exist!" The Doctor's words penetrate his musings, calling him back to the present.

His finger's on the red button before the Doctor calls for it, the action as predetermined – or is that predestined? – as this entire day has been. The fingers of his free hand clench around the console, clinging desperately to the surface as the TARDIS trembles around them.

However, as he knew he would, he finds himself on the floor after a particularly violent tremor. Blinking up at the ceiling, he decides to wait until the TARDIS stops before even attempting to rise.

The humour of the situation strikes him the instant they stop. Though he knows he's said it before, this time he says it willingly. "Well, that was fun. Doesn't your ship know that there're easier ways of getting me on my back? All she has to do is ask." He pushes himself to his feet, brushing off imaginary dust as he turns to face the Doctor.

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Stop flirting with the TARDIS."

"So what's out there?" Rose asks, giving him a strange glance.

"Mars," he says.

The Doctor frowns as he moves to the console, tapping at the controls. "The TARDIS-"

"Isn't responding," he completes. "You don't know where we are, so we might as well look." Jack knows that he should've held his tongue. He's probably imagining all of this. This is just a bad dream. If he pinches himself, he'll wake up, and he'll find he's safe in his bed – preferably with company. A smile tugs at his lips as his imagination runs away with him. Slowly, he reaches for his arm and pinches the skin hard between his fingers.

Damn. That hurt. Looks like this isn't a dream. It's a nightmare called reality.

The Doctor stares at him. "Jack, there's no way you can know where we are."

"Try it," he challenges, gesturing towards the door. This might be a dream, but he knows he's right.

With a much put-upon glare, the Doctor moves to the doors and opens them, revealing the tell-tale red landscape of Mars. Oh, sure, there're trees here and there, but the dust is impossible to change.

"Mars," the Doctor says softly, disbelieving.

He grins. "Better than a tracking system, aren't I? Welcome to Mars, 1969." His grin is the best shield he has against the terror that threatens to overwhelm him.

The Doctor frowns as he turns towards him, hand already pulling out the sonic screwdriver. "There can't be any temporal anomalies inside the TARDIS," he says, switching on the device and aiming it towards him. "The readings are normal. I don't detect any temporal recursions. Have you been time sensitive before?"

Jack shakes his head. "Nope. I'm your typical fifty-first century guy. Got a bit of a sense when something's wrong when I'm somewhere in the past, but that's it. I can't predict the future. Hell, if I was able to do that, my cons never would've failed." He winces at the look the Doctor gives him at his last comment, wishing he could withdraw it.

If he'd been able to predict the future, he never would've endangered all those people in 1941. If he'd been able to predict the future, he wouldn't be here right now. He knows which future he prefers.

"Could be a localised temporal recursion, something focused just around you," the Doctor muses, tapping his screwdriver against his thigh in an absent gesture. "Though that shouldn't be possible inside the TARDIS. You could've been exposed to something on the last planet we visited."

"We were on Earth," Rose points out, biting her lip as she looks between himself and the Doctor.

"Doesn't matter. There could've been something," the Doctor replies. "I just don't understand why the screwdriver isn't detecting anything abnormal."

"There's a possibility you didn't mention," Jack says. "I could be mad. A complete basket-case. Could've snapped last night and I'm imagining things."

Rose shakes her head. "Impossible."

"Why's that?" he challenges.

"'Cause that means we're both nuts."

Jack's speechless and the Doctor looks at her, slack-jawed.

Rose shrugs, shuffling her feet as she glances between them. "Some of this has happened before. Right before Jack said he felt fine. I remember that bit. This isn't the same, though. This is something new."

"It is," he agrees.

"Both of you, to the medlab," the Doctor orders.

"What about the mauve alert?" Rose asks. "I remember it was something trivial, but we should still look. Someone might be hurt."

Somehow he doubts it.

"Stay here," the Doctor commands. "I'll find the mauve and sort it. I don't want either of you to leave the TARDIS. If you're being affected by a temporal recursion, the TARDIS will be able to protect you. When I return, I'll need to run some tests on both of you."

Before either of them can protest, the Doctor's long strides have carried him some distance away from the TARDIS.

He wants to follow his friend, but he also knows that the Doctor's probably right. Maybe if he and Rose stay here there's a possibility that this temporal recursion or whatever it is can be stopped.

But he isn't holding his breath.

* * *

She wonders if this is what insanity is like. Impossible things frequently become possible around the Doctor, but this seems to be in a category all by itself. Though this particular situation is new, the scenario is not. She remembers the mauve alert, the conversation that followed, and even trekking across the red landscape of Mars towards the city.

How is this possible, though? How can she remember things that haven't happened? Well, given that they've changed things, does that mean that her memories are wrong? Does that mean that this won't happen again?

She sighs heavily as she brushes back her hair behind her ear. The future isn't written. Shouldn't be written. Oh, admittedly, she's seen the future. Seen things that aren't supposed to happen and been with the Doctor when he's sorted the problem. She's been to the past and helped the Doctor sort things there, too. But that doesn't answer the question that's resounding in her mind.

How can she possibly know the future when a Time Lord, the last of his kind, does not? How can she, a former shop girl, know anything about what will happen in the next second, minute, or hour? It's impossible.

Yet she's doing it. Has done it.

God, she's tying herself into mental knots thinking about this.

Things have changed, though. The Doctor's off on his own, finding the source of the mauve alert, while she and Jack are stuck here. The Doctor has his reasons. If she's suffering from a temporal re-whatsit, then this is the safest place for her. She's just never been much of a fan of 'safe'.

"Are we doing the right thing?" she asks, breaking the silence that's lengthened between them since the Doctor's departure.

"I don't know."

Her hopes sink lower as she turns towards him, trying to read his expression. There's a foreign air of futility around him that doesn't fit with what she knows of Captain Jack Harkness. "What do you know about temporal re-whatsits?"

"Recursions?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"I just know what I was told at the Agency," Jack says as he starts to pace. "It's basically when someone, or something, is stuck in a period of repeating time."

"Like _Groundhog Day_?" she asks, vaguely recalling the film.

Jack's blank look reminds her once more that sometimes Jack can be as alien as the Doctor. "'S a film," she explains. "There's a man who's stuck repeating the same day over an' over again until he gets something right."

"Ah, then yes. That's a good example of a recursion. Typically it's an object that goes from being brand new to decayed in a few seconds of relative time. An outside observer can tell when a recursion is happening whereas someone who's stuck inside a recursion might not."

"Then if we're stuck in a recursion, why do we know it an' the Doctor doesn't? I mean, he's the Time Lord. Shouldn't he jus', I dunno, have a sense of these things?" she asks.

Jack shrugs. "What I know about Time Lords is mostly out of legend. Most of that's been disproved just by being around the Doctor. I don't know, though. Maybe something's wrong with the Doctor or the TARDIS."

Rose frowns. The ship's hum hasn't changed. The lighting is the same as always and the console blinks and flashes as it normally does. It's fine. Normal. Just like always. She shakes her head. "Doesn't seem like there's anything wrong."

"Maybe what caused the recursion hasn't happened yet," he suggests.

That doesn't help. "How can we stop it, then? Is there a way to get out of it?"

"According to what I learned, we have to stop the cause of the recursion. Maybe there's an alien device that we encountered and touching it set off the recursion. If we don't touch it or if we destroy it, the recursion will be stopped. If it's something that's localised on the two of us, perhaps being inside a dimensionally transcendental ship will spare us."

"If it isn't? If it's something else?" Rose asks, even though she already knows the answer.

"Time will reset again."

Yup, that's what she thought. "So, if we are stuck in a recursion, and we know it, do we age? No, that's a daft question. We're reliving the same hours again and again. 'S just our minds realise it, yeah?"

He nods, looking impressed. "Exactly. We need to find out what caused the recursion." Jack's voice is anxious.

"We're workin' against a time limit?"

"Yes." Jack's eyes are strangely solemn as he stops his pacing to face her. "Human minds aren't meant to relive the same day over and over again. Eventually, even the strongest mind will break. We're not insane yet, but it will happen."

The certainty in his tone sends shivers down her spine. "How long?" she asks softly.

"As long as it takes," he replies. "There's no time schedule. Nothing that says on your fiftieth loop you will go mad. It depends on the individual. I saw someone who lost their mind because of a recursion once. I don't want to see something like that again."

"So what can we do?"

"Try something new every time," he says. "Don't follow the mauve alert. Try to go somewhere else in time and space. At some point we'll find the cause of the recursion and we will stop it."

Biting her lip, she moves closer to him, needing to feel his solid, all-too-human warmth. "An' only we'll know, yeah? Each time we'll have to explain to the Doctor what's going on?"

Jack nods. "Probably."

She sighs. The Doctor'll probably think they're mad each time. Then again, judging by Jack's words, at some point that'll be absolutely correct. "Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad I'm not alone in this," she confesses, resting her head against his shoulder.

His arm slides around her, holding her in a loose hug. "Me too," he says softly. "Me too."

* * *

Jack stares at his mug, following the ripples the coffee makes as it sloshes against the side. It's been hours since they last saw the Doctor. Worry is making him jumpy and it's all he can do to stop himself from following after his friend. Surely it didn't take this long to get to the city and back. Surely something would've happened by now.

He sighs and takes a sip of the brew, grimacing when he finds that the liquid is cool. He sets it down in disgust, pushing the offending mug as far away from him as possible. There's got to be something he can do. Maybe there's something he hasn't considered? Something he hasn't thought of that can solve this particular problem?

Ha. Problem. He doesn't even know if he's figured out what the problem is. Sure, temporal recursion fits the symptoms. There's even a relatively simple way of stopping it. What if he's wrong? What if it's something else entirely and he's wasting time thinking of ways to break the time loop?

"Damn," he mutters.

"Thought I'd find you in here."

He half-turns in his chair to see Rose leaning against the doorway. "I'd avoid the coffee if I were you," he says. "It's cold."

She makes a face and crosses the kitchen to grab the kettle. "I'd prefer a cuppa, actually. Any luck?" she asks as she starts making tea.

He shakes his head, belatedly realising that she can't see the gesture. "Not really."

"The Doctor's been gone a long time." Rose sets the kettle onto the cooker with a little more force than necessary and he winces at the sound.

"He should be back soon." He doesn't know why that feels like a lie.

"I want to go after him," she replies softly, keeping her face turned away from him. "He could be in trouble. Oh, I know he probably isn't. After all, the mauve was just something simple. But what if that's changed? What if what I remember isn't true any more? What if-"

"Rose, stop," he says, pushing the chair away from the table. "You're only going to…"

"Going to what?" she asks, spinning towards him, cutting off the flow of his words. "Get worked up? Drive myself mad with worry? Go mad? Think we've already covered that, ta."

"He's going to come back." His reassurances don't seem to be working judging by her expression.

"Is he? Or is time gonna reset an' we'll never know what happened out there?" Rose hugs herself, and he can see the faint tremors that run through her body.

"Don't borrow trouble, Rose. He's probably on his way back now."

"Yeah?" she asks.

"Yeah," he replies, trying to put as much conviction as possible into that word.

She frowns and turns away, hiding her expression in the only way she possibly can. "I still want to go after him."

"Me too," he acknowledges. It'd be the easy solution to leave the safety of the TARDIS behind to search for the Doctor. Perhaps even the right one. Yet he can't dismiss his instinct to remain, to see what might happen if they don't leave the confines of this ship.

Maybe the solution to defeating a temporal recursion is as simple as this – remain inside the TARDIS at the point of reset. If he's wrong, it won't be too bad. They'd just have to repeat this day again. Convincing the Doctor to believe them shouldn't be too difficult. Well, he says that now, but he knows the stubborn nature of the Time Lord. He could very well be wrong.

Rose sighs, bracing her hands on either side of the cooker. "If I go after him, will you come?"

He wishes she hadn't asked that question as much as he wishes they'd never found themselves in this particular situation. However, wishes rarely come true. In this case, doubly so.

Words catch in his throat as he hears the sound of footsteps coming from somewhere behind him. Shit. This entire conversation could've been avoided if they were in the console room. But no, he wanted coffee. Well, he really wanted to brood. The console room isn't the best spot for that sort of thing. So he's here, Rose is here and they both missed the Doctor's arrival.

From the rapid tapping of the Doctor's footsteps, it's obvious that he's in a hurry. Searching for them? Standing, he and Rose barely take a step towards the door before he's there.

The Doctor looks like he's been through a war. His jacket is dusty and battered-looking. His face is marred by both dust and blood. But it's not his appearance that commands Jack's immediate attention – it's the Doctor's eyes. He's never seen them look so alien.

"I know what's causing the recursion," the Doctor says without preamble, "and I need your help."

"You've got it," he replies.

"It's S-"

The Doctor's words are interrupted by three things: the kettle's whistle as the steam escapes from its spout, a tremor that rumbles through the floor of the TARDIS as though the ship is caught in the midst of a storm, and a brilliant flash of white.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3: Windows of Opportunity

**Chapter 3: Windows of Opportunity**

Rose has never heard so many curses in her life. At least, she assumes they're curses given how the TARDIS is refusing to translate them. Jack braces his head between his head and sighs, his fit of pique seeming to have disappeared as quickly as it came. No, wait.

She blinks her eyes to focus them and sighs as she recognises her surroundings. Another reset. Back at the beginning, again, right in the console room. She's still sitting on the captain's chair, Jack's beside her and the Doctor's repairing the console.

Oh! Damnit! Memory returns in a flash. The Doctor was about to tell them what was causing the time loop! Now she's tempted to echo Jack's cursing.

"Language," the Doctor scolds as he edges out from underneath the console. "What brought that on?"

Jack's apparently too aggravated to care about tact. "Rose and I are stuck in a temporal recursion. This same day has been repeated god knows how many times and you were about to explain what you found as a source for the recursion before time reset itself. You could say I'm a bit frustrated."

The Doctor blinks at him, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. "A temporal recursion?" he repeats as he thumbs on the tool, its high-pitched hum echoing through the console room. "That's impossible. The TARDIS filters out all-"

"Yeah, you said that before," Jack cuts him off, his tone tetchy. "Doesn't work, though. Not on this. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you that in about, oh, a minute we're going to get a mauve alert."

"From Mars," Rose adds.

"From Mars," Jack agrees. "And we can't follow it."

"If we are stuck in a temporal recursion, some things are inevitable. The TARDIS will materialise on Mars no matter what coordinates I set," the Doctor explains, frowning.

Maybe they always will arrive on Mars. Doesn't matter, though. At least, she doesn't think it does. They have to keep trying to change things. If they don't… She forces herself to think positively. She doesn't want to imagine life otherwise. If they're stuck in this recursion permanently, there won't be any asylums in her future. Nor will there be any means of restoring what she'll - what they'll - lose. Both she and Jack will be condemned to insanity, knowing the future but not being able to do a damned thing about it.

She shivers and wraps her arms around herself, cold despite the warmth of the TARDIS. "Jack told me that if we stay in this temporal recursion we'll go mad. Maybe we can try something different. See if we can go somewhere other than Mars. Sure, maybe it won't work, but it's something, yeah? 'Sides, even if we do arrive on Mars, that doesn't mean we have to go outside."

The Doctor studies her for a long moment and she finds that she can't read the look in his blue eyes. "Okay."

"Okay?" she repeats, not daring to believe the word. He's agreeing with her?

"Okay," the Doctor says again as he moves to the console. "Can always try Ulxarint. Fantastic sunsets, best chips this side of the galaxy and, even better, it's one of the best spots to pick up supplies to repair the TARDIS. Been meaning to go there for years - centuries, actually. Just keep getting sidetracked. Maybe we can make it this time."

A smile crosses her face as he turns to the console. The familiar actions of him setting their course is almost a balm to her as she lets herself settle back into the captain's chair. It's tempting to let herself indulge in hoping that this is the last time she'll relive this particular moment. The Doctor knows and he's actively working to help them sort this mess. Surely that's enough?

The Doctor's about to trigger the materialisation sequence when it happens again. A mauve alert has a very distinctive sound – it seems to throb, echoing through her mind like a siren's call. She's on her feet in an instant, though there isn't anything for her to do. This is the Doctor's choice.

Jack's told her that it's an unspoken law of time and space travel to answer a mauve alert. And here they are, asking him to ignore it in favour of running away. Her hands clench into fists and she drops her gaze, staring at the top of her trainers. She isn't certain any more if they're making the right choice. She wants out of this recursion as much as Jack does, but to what lengths are they going to go?

She reminds herself that the mauve alert is just for a broken piece of equipment. Nothing life-threatening. Nothing that's bound to cause Mars to destroy itself. Just a simple piece of broken machinery. Biting her lower lip, she raises her eyes to look at the Doctor.

His jaw clenches as he flips a switch, causing the engines to groan in protest as they set off to who knows where. Maybe he's trying for Ulxarint. Maybe they'll make it there, or maybe it's inevitable that they'll return to Mars.

At least they're trying.

The TARDIS rumbles to a stop an indeterminate amount of time later. It's almost funny, really. In all the months she's travelled with the Doctor, this has to rank highly on the smooth landing chart. A small smile causes her lips to quirk upwards and she shakes her head. They're stuck in a temporal recursion and she's busy ranking the Doctor's landing skills.

She really needs to get her priorities straight.

In the silence that follows in the wake of their arrival - a silence that no-one seems inclined to break - she watches the Doctor and Jack and they watch her. She feels like she can sense the passing of time now. The seconds and minutes seem to drag, though she knows that it is only her perception.

Still, no-one makes a move for the doors. She feels like she's caught in this single moment. No recursions could happen here, just a single instant that can last for an eternity.

"What's out there?" she asks, not realising that she was going to talk until it happens, and the quiet moment shatters.

"Only one way to find out," Jack declares. Even though she knows the TARDIS's sensors aren't broken, not now, she understands his desire to move, to see. It doesn't matter if they're on Mars or not. No-one is leaving the TARDIS now.

Jack walks to the doors while she trails behind him, wanting to see for herself what's outside. When he opens the doors to reveal a red landscape, she can't help the resigned sigh that escapes her lips. "Mars," she says.

"Mars," Jack agrees as he pulls the doors closed.

"That's not what I was aiming for," the Doctor says, though she can tell from the tone of his voice that while he wasn't aiming for Mars, this is what he expected.

She returns to the captain's chair and sits down, staring at a point somewhere off in the distance. "We can always try staying here. Maybe that'll break the recursion?"

Rose sees Jack shrug out of the corner of her eye and she focuses her gaze on him as he settles down beside her. He stretches out his legs in front of himself and sighs. "Maybe," he says, sounding unconvinced.

"Doctor, d'you know of any way to break a temporal recursion?" she asks.

"Normally, I'd say that being inside the TARDIS would save you. It isn't, though. That much is obvious. Breaking the loop is the only option, but without knowing what caused it in the first place I can't help."

Anger, sudden and irrational, fills her as she stares at him. "Fantastic! So, we'll just sit over here going mad quietly, then!" she snaps, instantly regretting the words when she sees him flinch.

Jack straightens his posture beside her. "Rose," he begins, but she holds up her hand to stop him.

"Sorry. It's just… Sorry. It's just a bit much, yeah?" she says, burying her face into her cupped hands. "I'm jus' going to go to bed. 'S been a long day."

There's a glimmer of humour in Jack's voice as he replies, "Tell me about it."

Lowering her hands, she glances at the Doctor and sees only guilt in his expression. "Stop it," she says.

"Stop what?"

"That," she replies, waving her hand towards him. "Feelin' guilty. It's not your fault."

"How do you know?" he counters, cocking his head to the side.

"Simple. If you'd caused this, you'd know about it. You don't, so you didn't." The logic might be a little strained – okay, a lot strained – but it works for her.

"You don't know that."

"Yes," she replies. "I do."

She stands and heads towards the door that leads to the TARDIS's interior. "Wake me when the next recursion strikes," she says, only half-joking.

Much later, she's lying on her back and blinking up at the darkened ceiling. She has no idea what time it is. Sleep has robbed much of her time sense. Nor does she know how much longer she has until the reset occurs – if it does – but she suspects it'll be soon.

Maybe, if this keeps up for much longer, she'll develop a sense for it. Temporal recursion in five…four…three…

_FLASH._

* * *

Damnit!

It's tempting, so very tempting, to give into the urge and let out a few more curses. That Teluxan curse fits this particular situation beautifully. Jack all but collapses onto the captain's chair next to Rose and sighs.

Hooray for a repeated day.

Focusing on what they've already tried, he tries to determine another possible means of breaking out of this temporal recursion. Staying in the TARDIS obviously doesn't work. Nor does letting the Doctor go off on his own. Alternate destinations don't work either.

So what's left?

He finally got fed up with having to explain things again and again to the Doctor. There's only so many times he can repeat the same words. So the Doctor told him the name of his home planet. That was one thing the legends left out. There were Time Lords, but for all he knew they came from Time Lordia or something equally absurd.

Gallifrey was a much more fitting name. He does have to admit that it does cut down on the explanation time. It's knowledge that he'd never have unless the Doctor told him. It's the simplest of ways to convince the Time Lord that they really are repeating the same day. Yet it doesn't exactly help them break the temporal recursion.

They try going in a different direction on Mars, avoiding the city altogether. Time resets. They try not talking to Sarassen. Time resets. They try sending just the Doctor and Rose out, or just himself and the Doctor out. Time resets again.

Some time after the last reset, while they're on Mars and firmly staying inside, he softly bangs his head against one of the struts. He tells himself that he doesn't care what the Doctor might think about it. He's had enough of this. "That's it," he declares. "I can't do this any more."

"Jack?" Rose asks.

She looks scared, terrified actually. That's good, even though it doesn't do either of them any good. Fear can't get them out of this one. "I'm taking this loop off. If I don't, I'm going to go mad. It's that simple."

The naked relief on her face actually makes him wish he'd done this earlier. "You mean we're not gonna try to escape this time?"

"Nope," he replies. "We're on holiday. We can get back to trying to escape a few loops from now."

Rose wrinkles her nose. "So what do we do on our holiday?"

He grins. "Anything we want."

Her eyes widen with what he assumes is understanding.

"You know the best thing about temporal recursions?" he asks.

She slowly shakes her head.

"No consequences."

* * *

"Ha! I won!" she crows, pointing her finger at him. It's become something of a game since Jack suggested taking a holiday from trying to escape from this time loop. As they sense the time of reset drawing closer, they tried to predict when it'd happen. The person who got it right won the chance to choose what they'd do during their next loop within reason.

"You did not," Jack replies. "It was a tie."

"Wasn't," Rose replies, shaking her head. "I distinctly-"

"What're you two on about?" the Doctor asks, pushing himself out from underneath the console. He looks confused and she supposes she should take pity on him, but she's more concerned with making Jack see sense.

"Your homeworld is Gallifrey. We're stuck in a temporal recursion loop and you, Rose Tyler, cheat," Jack declares. Maybe she should be worried about how effortlessly he switches subjects. Then again, he is a former conman.

Now that's just insulting. "I do not! I distinctly remember you saying three. Not two. Three."

"What?" the Doctor exclaims.

It's probably particularly rude of them to continue ignoring the Doctor's questions, but she's too busy trying to prove that Jack is wrong.

Jack shakes his head. "I said two. It's not my fault that you weren't listening to me."

"Now that doesn't-" she begins, but her words are cut off the instant the Doctor moves between the two of them.

Oh. She doesn't much like the look on his face. "A temporal recursion?" he says.

"How much longer until the next reset?" she asks hopefully.

"Too long," Jack replies.

* * *

He whistles as he walks down the corridors of the TARDIS, barely feeling the chill of the flooring beneath his bare feet. There is something almost liberating about doing this. There are no concerns like this. The recursion doesn't matter, not really. Instead, he's doing what he's wanted ever since he came onboard the ship.

He hears a sharp gasp behind him.

When he turns around, he has to grin. The Doctor's expression is unreadable and Rose's face is flushed a brilliant red. He spends a moment wondering why they're so flustered before he remembers.

"Is there a reason you're walking around naked?" the Doctor asks.

"Not the reaction I was hoping for. Let's try this again. You see me. Then you say..."

"Get dressed?"

"No," Jack says, trying to be patient. "You say: bed or console?"

The Doctor just rolls his eyes. "Get dressed, Captain. We're going out."

"Oh, a date?" He looks pointedly at them both, following the curves and lines of both their bodies with his gaze. "Does this mean I get to be the filling in the sandwich?"

Rose barely manages to stifle her giggles as the Doctor leads her away without answering.

* * *

Chocolate.

It's everywhere. On the floor, on the countertops, on the table. Every bite is a sinful piece of heaven that should go straight to her hips. She grins as she selects a piece of mint chocolate, dropping it into her mouth. As it melts, she closes her eyes, barely managing to suppress a moan of pleasure.

"Rose?" the Doctor asks in a strangely husky voice.

She opens her eyes again to find the Doctor looking at her from the doorway with a strange expression on his face.

"Yeah?"

"What're you doing?" he asks, gazing at the chocolate-covered kitchen.

"Telling consequences to sod off, actually," she says. Grabbing one of the chocolate truffles, she holds it out to him. "Want one?"

She can almost see the thoughts that must be racing through his head. "Sure," he finally says and takes the chocolate from her hand with his own. "Is there a reason you're telling consequences to sod off?"

"The beauty of temporal recursions, as Jack tells me, is no consequences," she replies and pops another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

His eyes are on her lips as he asks, "Are you so certain about that?"

She doesn't know how to respond.

* * *

She's torn between being mortified and being amused by Jack's latest attempt to make one of their loops a holiday. There's a very real possibility that the TARDIS has a hand in this, she decides. There's no way this huge bed was here yesterday. Never mind the bit where yesterday to her was technically today.

God, the mixture of temporal recursions and tenses make her head hurt.

"It's a bed," the Doctor says slowly, looking at them suspiciously.

"Yup," Jack replies.

"This is what I had to see?" The combination of disbelief and sarcasm in the Time Lord's voice is enough to make her wince.

"Oh, more than just see," Jack says. "It's a feast for your senses. Sight, sound…" Jack moves closer to the Doctor and lets his hand barely touch a leather-clad shoulder. "Touch."

The rush of heat to her cheeks tells her that she's definitely blushing. Jack's being far more blatant than she ever would've expected of him. She's always assumed that would be the quickest way of making the Doctor run.

Yet the Doctor's still here. "What's got into you both?" the Doctor asks, staring at the two of them through narrowed eyes.

"The Devil?" Jack suggests, grinning as he pushes the Doctor towards the bed.

Sure, she's gone along with this so far. It is tempting to just let her inhibitions go. It's not like the Doctor'll remember this. Except, and this is a big exception, she will. If she goes through with this, can she go back to the way things were?

Jack must've seen the doubts in her eyes as he turns towards her, gesturing for her to join them. Instead, she gazes at the Doctor, trying to categorise his every reaction to this particular situation. Maybe he's been expecting something like this from Jack, but judging by the look in his eyes, he definitely didn't expect this out of her.

Mortification is definitely winning the internal battle.

The sonic screwdriver is in the Doctor's hands and the high-pitched hum fills the room. He first points it towards Jack, frowning at the readings. When he turns the device towards her, his frown only deepens. "Normal. Completely normal readings for both of you. Have you had anything to drink? Eat? Something you didn't recognise?"

"That's the beauty of temporal recursions," Jack says as he approaches the Doctor. "Doesn't matter what you do, really. In the end, no-one except Rose and me will remember."

Before she can say anything, do anything, Jack's lips are on the Doctor's. Part of her wishes she were that bold, part wants to back away slowly and another part wants to join in.

Is the Doctor kissing him back? She can't tell, not really. She'd have to move to get a better position and her feet are rooted to the spot.

When the kiss breaks some time later, the Doctor pushes away from Jack and looks at her, giving her a challenging glance. "Is this what you wanted?" he asks, looking between them. "A chance to see what would happen if you let your human fantasies have free rein? Well, there you are. Now you know. C'mon, then, Rose. If that's what you really want."

Her blush is deepening as mortification threatens to consume her. "This isn't… It's not…"

"What is it, then?" the Doctor asks.

"He won't remember," Jack reminds her.

"Doesn't matter," she says. "I will."

With those words, she turns on her heel and leaves the room. Jack's and the Doctor's gazes weigh heavily upon her as she goes, but she doesn't let herself give in and turn around. This isn't how this was supposed to be. None of this.

This, she decides, is the curse of repeating a day. Even though one of them won't remember what happened, she will. She always will.

* * *

Jack wonders if she can feel the weight of his gaze upon her. She's been strangely subdued this loop and he knows precisely why. God, he's an idiot. He should've realised that she wasn't ready for something like that. She's from the twenty-first century. Different rules about sex, different rules about everything.

Then again, he's not the one who watched someone else kiss the man he loved. Damnit.

Rose is sitting on the console room floor, her back pressed against one of the struts, supposedly helping the Doctor work on repairs. Even the Doctor's stopped asking her for tools. Instead, he reaches up periodically from his position underneath the grating to grab another tool.

He's got to fix this. "Rose?" he tries. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She looks up at him and offers him a smile, a smile that he certainly isn't expecting to see after her mood for most of this loop. "I've been a cow," she says. "I should be the one apologising. You're right. You're absolutely right."

Jack tries his best to follow what she's saying but he's failing miserably. "Of course I am. Right about what?"

"The beauty of temporal recursions is that there are no consequences," she replies.

Ah. "So what would you like to do now?" he asks. He guesses that they've got a few more hours to kill before the next reset.

"Your choice."

There are so many things he could suggest. Like escorting her to his bedroom, or daring her to snog the Doctor. "Strip poker?" he suggests.

"Only if you can convince the Doctor to play," she replies with a wicked grin.

The thought of Rose Tyler in various states of undress is more than enough for him to do his best to convince a reluctant Time Lord to join in the fun. After all, he's been dying to see if reality can beat his overactive imagination ever since he met Rose and the Doctor.

Somehow, and he's still trying to remember just what he promised to make this happen, the Doctor does end up joining them, which ends up being to his great chagrin. He should've guessed that his two companions were really card sharks. Very subtle, very clever and obviously cheating card sharks.

He's down to his wrist-comp – which he's insisted counts as a piece of clothing since the Doctor had insisted upon using his watch as one of his forfeits – and his trousers, socks and shoes. Rose is minus one hoodie and both her socks and trainers. The Doctor's only lost his watch and leather jacket.

In all, this really isn't fair.

"Call," he says, hoping against hope that this hand will at least win him a glimpse of the Doctor's bare chest.

The cards are laid out on the table. He's definitely beaten the Doctor – his two pairs are higher than the Time Lord's. But Rose's four of a kind beats them all.

"Shit," he mutters.

"Sore loser?" the Doctor asks, grinning.

He slips off the wrist-comp and tosses it amongst the pile of clothing beside him. Jack's then rewarded with the sight of pale skin as the Doctor pulls off his jumper, letting it fall to the floor.

"Oh," he says, distracted by the sight of the Doctor's torso. "I wouldn't say that."

* * *

Rose tells herself firmly that she can do this. Jack's already done it. He's even cheering for her to do it, coaxing her to take the chance. What does it matter if she'll always remember this moment? It's the only chance she'll ever get.

Straightening her posture and trying to gather as much strength as possible from Jack's encouragement, she walks boldly into the console room. The Doctor's fiddling with the TARDIS console again, though she suspects it's only a matter of time before he decides to go outside and explore. There's only so much one can stand of doing the same…

Right. The Doctor isn't the one who knows he's stuck in a temporal recursion. She is.

"Doctor?" she asks.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, he stops what he's doing to look at her. "Yeah?"

The thought barely crosses her mind to close the distance between them before she's already there, looking up at him. He's so close that she can smell his unique scent – leather and oil and something that she likes to think of as time. "There's something-" She cuts herself off, not wanting to use words at a time like this. Is it taking advantage of someone when they won't remember it?

"Rose?" he asks and she can see the concern in his gaze. It's the touch of his hand against her cheek that spurs her movement.

She presses her lips against his and she thinks she feels him respond when there's a brilliant flash of white that seems to bleach out reality itself.

Rose decides she really hates temporal recursions.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4: Freeze Frame

**Chapter 4: Freeze-Frame**

When Jack finds Rose, it looks like she's sleeping. In the darkened room, lit only by the faint light from the doorway, he can barely see the subtle shake of her shoulders.

She's crying. 

He's beside her in an instant, crouching next to her, wanting to touch her but not daring. He doesn't know if she'd welcome him now.

"Rose?" he asks softly.

There isn't enough time to react before Rose launches herself at him and wraps her arms around him, duvet and all. He can feel her trembling against him as he reciprocates the embrace. "What happened?" He almost dreads the answer.

"I was so close. So damned close. I kissed him, you know? I kissed him and I thought he might've been kissing me back an' the stupid, bloody, _fucking_ reset happened before I could even do anything! 'S not fair!" 

Jack sighs as he strokes her hair, silently damning the curse of these temporal resets. Sure, it was fun to take loops off and do things he wouldn't normally do just to see what the consequences might be. He enjoyed himself and he knows Rose did too. This is just a much needed dose of reality.

This isn't what Rose needs. Not possibilities or potentials or no regrets. She needs consequences. She needs to live her life one new day after another. This temporal recursion has to stop.

"I know," he replies, brushing his lips against her temple. "I know it is. We didn't ask for this to happen. I think we need to work on getting out of this mess. The holiday's over."

She draws away from his embrace and looks at him, though he isn't certain what she can see in the dim light. When she kisses him, it's completely unexpected.

It doesn't last long, but he can still feel the tingle of where her lips had moved against his even after she's drawn away. "What was that for?" he asks. It isn't like him to doubt something like this. Normally, he assumes he knows. She wants him like he wants her. Simple enough, really. But that isn't it. Rose is worth more than that.

"It's a thank you," she replies. "I don't think I could survive this without you."

Tears burn his eyes as he pulls her back into another hug. "Me either," he tells her.

He's seen what temporal recursions can do to people who recognise what's happening to them. He's seen the broken shell of a man, left crying and driven mad from the curse of living the same day over and over again. No-one, especially no-one human, is meant to relive the same moments again and again.

Thank god he has someone to share this with. 

"Right," he says after he swiftly steals a kiss, reciprocating her thanks in the only way he knows how. "I think it's time you and I broke this temporal recursion."

He feels the weight of her regard, even though her eyes are hidden in shadow. "An' how are we going to do that?" she asks.

"Trial and error," he replies. "There's got to be something that's common between these time loops. What's the one thing that never changes?"

"We always end up on Mars," Rose says. The answer is so simple it's no wonder he missed it. Mars. The two things that remain the same. They start in the TARDIS and end up on Mars.

"The Doctor said something about that. If we're stuck in a temporal recursion, we will always travel to Mars, no matter what. But what's so special about Mars? Why there? Why not somewhere else?" He's thinking out loud now. It's tempting to pace, but he needs to remain close to Rose.

"We're missing something." Rose slowly shakes her head. "The Doctor figured it out, remember? He said that it was 'S' something or other. What if it's something on Mars? Not the planet itself? I mean, we've tried changing things, doing things different. Nothing's worked. So what if we're missing the real cause? What if it's not somethin' obvious? What if it isn't even something that we did?"

He looks at her dumbly for a long moment, letting her words soak in. Mars and the TARDIS are the two things that never change. _Think_, he cajoles himself. The Doctor mentioned 'S'. What the hell could that mean? S-what? 

He rakes his hand through his hair, pulling back from the embrace to rest on his knees. There's something important that he's missing, something that should be obvious, but isn't. The trauma of repeating the same day over and over again has taken its toll on his memories. He can't keep them in the right order any more. He doesn't know what came before they started trying to change things and what didn't.

The beginning. That's as good a place to start as any. "Rose, what's the earliest thing you can remember from today? And I don't mean this particular round of the recursion, just in general."

Rose is quiet for several seconds and he assumes that she's trying to sort her thoughts. He knows that it is like trying to rifle through a room full of boxes of similar shape and size, trying to find one that's not exactly like all the others.

"The console room. You and I were laughing 'bout something. The Doctor joined in an' then there was the mauve alert. We followed it to Mars an' then we got out of the TARDIS and went into the city. After that, I don't remember much. I just know that the mauve alert was caused by a broken communication device of some sort."

He stands and begins to pace. "Was there anything special about the city? Something that might've changed each time we went there? Something that was different enough that it couldn't necessarily be explained by us?"

Rose releases a whistling breath through her teeth. "Um, there was that bloke. Sar-something? He was always there. Didn't matter which way we went into the city, he always met us."

She's right. Damn, he just never put the pieces together before. It was almost like he - Saran? Sarennsen? No, Sarassen - was waiting for them. Oh, hell! That starts with an S. Then again, they might be chasing the wrong clue, no matter how promising it seems. "We changed things enough that he shouldn't've been there all the time. Didn't matter which direction we went into the city, who was with us or where we went first, did it?"

She shakes her head. "He was always there."

Jack smiles. "I think we've got a place to start, though. We'll just have to talk to Sarassen. Maybe he can shed some light on things."

"I don't think we've got much time left before the reset," Rose replies.

He frowns thoughtfully as he considers the time. She's probably right. It's getting close, at least. "We'll just have to find Sarassen when we first land on Mars."

Satisfied that they finally have a plan that has a chance of working, he reaches out and rests his hand against her cheek. "Try to get a bit more rest. We'll tackle this next reset."

She smiles, leaning slightly into his touch. "You too, Jack."

"I'll try," he says and moves towards the open doorway.

"An' Jack?" The sound of her voice causes him to turn back. Now, thanks to his bulk blocking the light, she's nothing more than a shapeless bundle of human and duvet.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," she says again.

"Any time," he says and leaves her to her sleep.

* * *

The barren landscape and the red dust that clings to her clothes and coats her skin are practically old friends. It doesn't matter that this is technically the first time she's seen this place. Thanks to the temporal recursion, this is just the latest among many.

The Doctor's hand tightens around her own, drawing her attention away from her musings on the peculiarities of time loops and what counts as a 'first time' in these situations. Casting a curious glance towards him, he merely smiles in reply. She can easily see the worry that deepens the lines around his eyes.

Wondering when she'll crack, perhaps? No, that's not fair. He's trying his best, even though the Doctor has to be re-taught each time the recursion happens. Yet it does seem to be getting easier. All it takes is one mention of Gallifrey for him to believe them. Even the initial anger and accusations have stopped. She hasn't had to give her explanation of temporal recursions for at least, oh, seven loops by now.

But the spectre of insanity does still loom over herself and Jack. It's almost as much a friend as the landscape around them. She does wonder how much more of this she can take before she finally snaps. One more time? Two? A thousand? How many successive days of the same thing can anyone stand before they go mad? If madness doesn't get her first, the exhaustion will.

She sighs and rubs her hand across her eyes. She can't let herself dwell on could be's – well, will be's, she amends. Right now, they have to find Sarassen.

Jack strides ahead of them and she knows that he's just as impatient, if not more so, to get this over with as she is. She misses the days of knowing that tomorrow is literally a new day. Sometimes it seems as though that is more a fond dream rather than a memory.

The city looms in front of them and she almost pities the poor souls that are stuck in a place like this. Sure, it's a place to call home; but it's dying. These people are merely trying to cling onto something that won't last, can't last. However, sometimes it's hard to let go.

She shivers as the thought crosses her mind, feeling as though someone had just walked over her grave. It's a conscious movement when she draws nearer to the Doctor, needing that closeness. Despite the fact that she's unsettled, she doesn't breach the quiet that seems to blanket the city. Even the normal noises of a town are muted, but she suspects that might just be in her mind.

It's only when Sarassen steps out into the street in front of them that she realises they haven't thought this through. She and Jack had only talked about finding Sarassen, not about what they'd do once he was found. Greet him, perhaps? Ask him if he knows…

Her thoughts are arrested the second she looks into the man's eyes. Those aren't the eyes of a sane man. 

"You," Sarassen hisses, staring directly at the Doctor. "It's your fault! You did this! You caused this!"

The Doctor takes a half-step forward to partially shield her from Sarassen's view. "What did I cause?" he asks. "Bit thick, me. You might have to spell it out."

"That won't work, Time Lord. I know what you are, what you've done. I know that you broke it!" Sarassen snarls as his hands fist at his sides.

"Haven't broken anything recently, I don't think. Rose? Jack? Remember me breaki-"

What happens next is almost too fast for her to see. She thinks Sarassen launches himself towards the Doctor, probably with every intention of throtting him for some unknown slight. But somehow Jack's there, blocking Sarassen, easily able to hold onto the struggling man.

"Let me go!" Sarassen screams, practically frothing at the mouth. "It's his fault. If I stop him that'll mean this time it'll work. It has to work! It's the only way! He has to be stopped!"

"Why do I have to be stopped?" the Doctor asks. She bites her lip as he moves closer to the still-fighting man.

"Don't come any closer, Doc. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep him still," Jack says, grunting as Sarassen's head impacts against his chin.

"Why do I have to be stopped?" the Doctor repeats. Though she can't see the Doctor's face, she can easily imagine his expression. Compassionate, probably. Worried, most likely. Curious, definitely.

"You mucked it up!"

"What?" the Doctor asks. 

She doesn't think there's enough of Sarassen left beyond the hate to be able to respond, but somehow the man manages to surprise her.

"You and your blue box broke it," Sarassen says. "It was supposed to work. It was supposed to be able to save everyone. I was supposed to save everyone. Everything was supposed to change for the better! But it didn't happen. Everything just kept starting over again." The man giggles and a chill runs down her back at the sound. "And again and again and again and again…"

"What was it?" The words are out of her mouth before she has time to censor them.

Sarassen turns his gaze towards her and she feels like she's been caught in amber, struck silent by the force of his insanity. "The future, girl. The only way to save it. Now it's gone, all gone. I try it again and again, but he's always there, stopping me. Even when I can't see him, he's there. The Time Lord's protecting time even when it shouldn't be protected. He's destroyed tomorrow!"

God. This is her future, isn't it? Just seeing… God, she has to turn away, wants to, bloody _needs_ to, but she can't. "How were you gonna save the future?"

Sarassen laughs, a high pitched sound. "With my time machine, of course! No-one believed me, you know. No-one can travel in time. Not here. Never here. But I was going to prove them wrong. So very, very wrong. When I saved them, they'd see." The man nods. "Tell them to let me go, girl, and maybe I can save it again. If you distract the Time Lord, maybe this time it'll work."

"It won't work," the Doctor says. "You can't change the past."

She bites her tongue against the automatic protest. She knows it's possible to change the past. She's done it before and been burned.

Rose blinks. God, she hadn't even thought of that. Reapers. What if the time loop is somehow protecting them from Reapers? She looks at the sky nervously, half-expecting to see a dragon-like creature diving towards her.

"Because you stopped me!" Sarassen replies, struggling a little harder against Jack's restraining grip. "Let me go!"

"Where's your time machine?" Rose asks, sensing that she might be able to reach the man where the Doctor and Jack can't. Sarassen's too far gone to accept logic. Even the Doctor's scolding isn't working.

"It's in my pocket," Sarassen replies. She gets the impression that he's paranoid as he looks around, giving the Doctor a glare. "But you can't tell anyone. It's a secret."

"Of course it is," she agrees. "Can I see it?" Rose knows that she's treading across dangerous ground, but she gets the sense that this is their last chance. She doubts that Sarassen will let this happen again should this fail.

The man frowns and, though he's obviously insane, his gaze seems to be weighing her worth. He seemed to trust her somewhat before, telling her things that he wouldn't've told Jack or the Doctor. The question is whether he trusts her enough to show her his time machine.

Sarassen starts to move, reaching towards his pocket, and Jack lets him. She's leaning forward, as though that gesture will cause Sarassen to be that much faster. Later, she blames complacence, not to mention her movements, for what happens next.

In a movement that's so fast it's almost a blur, Sarassen does something to Jack's hand. She can hear the crack of a broken bone and his cry of pain, see the tears that spring to Jack's eyes. Sarassen practically dances free of Jack's grip, moving to keep the Doctor and herself within view.

"It's time," Sarassen says as he reaches into his pocket.

The Doctor starts to step forward, but a warning gesture from Sarassen holds him still.

"What're you going to do?" she asks.

"Change the world," Sarassen says as he pulls out a silver sphere. She has a moment to register the Doctor's gasp of recognition before she's moving. She sees the button on the side of the device and somehow she knows that she has to stop it from being pressed.

Her world narrows to nothing more than Sarassen and that sphere. She has to stop him. She can't go through this again, not after being so close to ending the recursion.

Sarassen's thumb is drifting towards that button. He's saying something, but she's not listening. His words don't matter. It's only his movements that are her concern. He's reaching for that button and she can't let that happen.

Suddenly, she's launching herself towards Sarassen, her hands outstretched to grab the sphere. She grunts at the sharp pain of the impact against Sarassen's body, feeling their jumbled mass of limbs and torso fall towards the ground. She's trying to grab the sphere, but she fumbles it, her inexpert attempts causing it to slip through her fingers and head towards the floor.

She's prepared for the inevitable flash that signals a reset. She's even prepared for the second she hits the ground or the heavy body that collapses against her. She isn't prepared for the high-pitched hum of the sonic screwdriver or the small trail of smoke that rises from the silver sphere after it rolls to a stop somewhere near her left foot.

Then her attention is captured by something far more important – the sensation of strong hands wrapping around her neck.

"I was wrong." Sarassen practically spits out the words, his eyes boring into her own as he tightens his grip. "It's not the Doctor's fault, is it, girl?"

She chokes, barely able to draw in a breath let alone speak. Her hands grip his arms, attempting uselessly to force them away. He's too strong and he's got more than enough leverage to keep her where she is.

"It's yours. You're the one who's failed the city. You're the one who caused this. _You_ are killing it! _You_! And now I'm going to kill you."

_To be concluded..._  



	5. Chapter 5: Fast Forward

**Chapter 5: Fast Forward**

Frozen in terror - Jack's never suffered from that particular affliction before. He's never had a moment where fear steals the movement from his limbs and the breath from his lungs. He's never been caught like an insect in amber while something terrible happens. He always thought it to be a curiosity, something that affects others but never him.

Not now. Now he knows it intimately, knows how it feels to be frozen as a man strangles the woman whose presence is all that's kept him sane for who knows how long. He knows what it's like to want to do something but have fear steal all possible action away. He knows what it's like to only hear the rush of blood through his veins and the soft choking noises Rose makes as she struggles against Sarassen. He thought he was better than this. _Fuck that_, he scolds himself. He is better than this.

It takes seconds. Seconds too long, he fears, as Rose's resistance begin to lessen, her movements growing weaker. The Doctor's hurrying towards the two figures on the ground, his shouts mingling with his own as Rose stills beneath Sarassen's cruel fingers.

Terror releases his limbs from his grip and somehow he's there before the Doctor, bodily throwing Sarassen away from Rose's too-still form. Panic threatens to overwhelm him just as quickly as the fear, but he forces himself to ignore it and focus on Sarassen. The Doctor will save Rose. He has more important things to consider.

Like how Sarassen's neck will feel as it breaks beneath his hands – injured fingers be damned. 

There are no words that can describe what he feels as he approaches the figure lying in the dust before him. No words to tell how it feels as he hauls the man to his feet, wanting nothing more than revenge. He doesn't even know if Rose is alive. All he has is his hope and a cold desire to stop this man from hurting anyone else ever again.

"You bastard," he snarls, finally giving voice to a small measure of that anger and hate that roll through his system. He pulls the man to his feet, grunting as the movement jars his injury.

Sarassen's gaze focuses on something past his shoulder and somehow he knows that the man is staring at the sphere. 

"It's over," he says, ready to give into the urge to lay Sarassen out with a good right hook. 

Sarassen has other plans. 

The punch, when it comes, isn't telegraphed. One instant, there is nothing, the next his cheek is stinging with a pain that throbs in time with his hand. He lifts his injured hand towards his cheek as the other reaches out towards Sarassen. He has to stop him. For all Jack knows, Sarassen intends on hurting the Doctor or trying to fix his spherical device.

He just misses with his hand, spinning on his heel to try to reach the man before he can do more damage. A babble of unintelligible nonsense escapes Sarassen's mouth as he heads towards the sphere. It's nothing more than raving, but it's enough to make his blood boil. He hears 'girl', 'stop them' and 'kill' scattered amongst those words.

Jack tries to dive towards Sarassen, hoping that his bulk will, at least, manage to cause the other man to trip. Somehow he manages to catch hold of Sarassen's ankle, but only for an instant. The ankle jerks free and he's left panting through the pain as the other man tries to take another step forward.

From this position, he can see the missed step and the slow motion – though that's only in his mind – fall towards the ground. Sarassen doesn't try to brace himself. Instead, Sarassen looks back at him, capturing Jack's gaze with his own. Then comes the impact.

The sound of cracking bones echoes like a gunshot as Sarassen's body hits something at the wrong angle. He knows the sound a lifeless body makes the second it hits the ground. He recognises that same hollow sound as Sarassen's body bounces upwards along with the sound of snapping bones. He can see one of Sarassen's eyes from where he lies and, for the briefest of seconds, he thinks he can see the man Sarassen once was before the recursion stole his sanity staring back at him.

Jack forces himself to his feet as Sarassen's eye dulls with death, needing to check on Rose. A swift glance at their enemy reveals the cause of his death – a rock and bad luck. Sarassen's neck has snapped. Unable to find it within himself to care, he leaves the cooling body behind to find out how Rose is doing.

Despite the fight, the Doctor apparently hasn't moved from his spot leaning over Rose. The tension in the Time Lord's shoulders isn't reassuring and he braces himself for the worst.

When he gets close enough to see her, it feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders when he sees her smile. "Not bad for a former shopgirl, huh?" she asks, her voice raspy from her injuries.

"Don't talk," the Doctor admonishes her.

"Not bad at all," he says, crouching beside them, wincing as the motion jars his hand. He wants to yell at her, to tell her to stop taking chances when there's no safety net of a reset…

He blinks. The reset is – no, was - due a few minutes ago, wasn't it? Does this mean it's over?

He nudges the sphere with his hand, glancing at the Doctor. "So this is a time machine?" he asks.

The Doctor gives him a look that seems to imply he's being particularly daft. In his defence, he knows that it's the easiest way to get the Doctor talk. "No. No, it isn't."

That isn't particularly helpful. But, before he can try to cajole an explanation, Rose shifts herself into a half-sitting position and diverts his attention. "Careful," he says, trying to reaching out to capture her shoulder in an attempt to steady her. The Doctor's hand beats him there, but instead of shying away he lets his hand rest on top of the Time Lord's.

"Keep still," the Doctor commands, using his free hand to pull out the sonic screwdriver. Thumbing it on, the device's blue light is run over Rose's head and neck. "Bit banged up, but your bonehead-" He gently taps her forehead. "-kept you in one piece. I can sort your throat when we get back to the TARDIS. You too, Captain. Don't think I missed that you're hurt."

The thought of painkillers is more than enough to keep him happy. He's more concerned about Rose.

She sighs. If it sounds long-suffering, he supposes she deserves it. He still can't believe that she took that risk. Suddenly, panic fills her eyes as she meets his. "The recursion. Are we-?" she asks and her voice gives out before she can finish the question.

"It's over," the Doctor says. "Tomorrow'll be a new day for you – literally."

The relief in her expression is almost palpable, but that might just be because of his echoing emotion. 

"Why?" she manages.

"Why'd it happen?" the Doctor completes. At Rose's nod, the Time Lord sighs deeply. There's guilt in the Doctor's eyes as he replies, "Me."

"You?" he asks, disbelieving. "It's not your fault Sarassen decided to play with technology that he shouldn't have." Speaking of said technology, he gives it a glance, finally seeing that there are strange geometric patterns inscribed on the surface. He knows that the designs are somewhat familiar, but he can't place them.

"'S Gallifreyan technology. A bloody training device. Meant to teach kids how to manipulate time fields. Thing is, it isn't supposed to be used in proximity to TARDISes. This one was and-"

"Temporal recursion," he finishes. Hell. As if the Doctor needed more guilt on his shoulders.

"Temporal recursion," the Doctor agrees. "I'm sorry." The Doctor turns away, shielding his eyes and expression from both himself and Rose.

"Not…your…fault," Rose says. Her voice is hoarse, but she manages to complete the sentence between breaths. "Honest, it isn't. Can't…predict the future."

The Doctor flinches. "Yes. I can."

"So you knew this was going to happen?" he asks.

"No, but-"

"Then you can't predict the future," he concludes. "Oh, you might have your guesses. The big things, of course. Maybe even some little things if you're lucky. But this? Definitely not. So it's not your fault, Doc, so stop blaming yourself."

"Doctor," the Time Lord corrects him.

"I'll only call you Doctor, _Doc_, if I'm certain you're listening."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"I'd be happy to show you how hard I can be," he replies and is rewarded with Rose's choked laughter and a glare from the Doctor.

"C'mon, then," the Doctor says as he helps Rose to her feet. "I think it's time we got back to the TARDIS."

He does his best to imply that this conversation isn't over, but the Doctor is ignoring him. Well, fine. He can wait until after everyone's hurts are fixed and they're safely away from here. Then there's no way the Doctor's getting out of their next conversation without knocking him out first.

* * *

She opens her eyes with a start, terrified by what she might see. She's on her bed, in her pyjamas, and the room is dark. It's not the console room, so that's something. Rubbing her eyes, she slips out from underneath the duvet and starts to head for the door. She's already got it planned out – she'll head to the console room and check. If it's a different day, really a brand new day, she'll only find the Doctor there. If it isn't, she'll expect to see Jack too. Sure, she always started the day in the console room, but that doesn't mean it hasn't changed slightly.

Right?

Shaking her head at her own scepticism, she's almost past the edge of her bed when she trips over something. There's a decidedly masculine grunt and suddenly the lights turn on. Blinking against the sudden brightness, she turns and finds herself staring at not one, but two, men looking back at her.

The Doctor's wincing as he rubs his ankles and Jack, safely on the other side of her bed, merely smiles sheepishly. It looks like, some time during the night, they dragged the chairs in her room closer to the bed, and settled in.

"What're you two doing?" she asks. She expects this out of the Doctor. Whenever she's injured, she'll find him looking in on her, sometimes watching her sleep. She's never told him this, but she finds it rather comforting. Jack, however, has never joined in that particular habit.

At least, not until now. "If I say that you snore while you sleep, would that save me?" Jack asks, giving her a winning smile.

That certainly won't work. "Doctor?"

The Doctor stands and approaches her. He seems to loom over her, but that doesn't bother her. It's more of a protective looming than anything else. "Just give me a promise," he says.

It's not answering her question, but she's willing to play along. "What's that?"

"Promise me that you won't try that again." It doesn't take A-levels to understand what he's asking of her. He doesn't want her risking her life, doesn't want a repeat of what happened earlier. Yesterday, even. That word alone is enough to lift her spirits.

"No," she replies. "Can't do it. I was the closest one there an' Sarassen trusted me. I couldn't let him push that button and make time reset. I jus' couldn't. You can't ask that of me, Doctor. Not when you can't promise to stop blamin' yourself for things that're beyond your control."

"It _is_ my fault, Rose. You could've-"

"But I didn't," she points out. "Neither did you nor Jack. So 's fine, see? And it wasn't your fault. You can't change the past. What happened, happened."

There's a rustle of fabric as Jack moves to join them. "I don't think you're going to get that promise, Doc."

"Doctor." The word is a growl.

"Already told you. Not until you stop blaming yourself, Doc," Jack says.

"I'll stop blamin' myself when you two stop playin' the hero an' almost gettin' killed."

She can't help it. The looks on both their faces are just too much. She starts to giggle and their indignant expressions only add to the hilarity. "Think we're jus' gonna have to agree to disagree."

Jack's lips quirk upwards into a smile. "Truce?" he asks.

"Truce," the Doctor agrees. "As long as you stop callin' me Doc."

She thinks Jack's about to disagree but something must change his mind as he nods in agreement.

"What? Aren't you two gonna hug an' make up?" she asks, grinning.

Jack gives her a startled look and the Doctor's surprisingly taciturn. "Only if you join us," Jack counters, stifling a grin.

"All right, then," she replies. "Doctor?"

The Doctor gives them an almost calculating glance as he opens his arms and pulls both herself and Jack into an all-too-brief embrace. "Better?" he asks once he releases them.

"Oh, I dunno. Might need a repeat performance," Jack says. "This time, with extra feeling."

"Ah, but that's where you've got to start considerin' the consequences, Captain. Then again, sometimes the consequences might not be as bad as you think." The Doctor's smile is crooked as he ducks his head and brushes cool lips against hers. But it's so brief that she has no chance to react as he pulls away, nodding towards the door. "I'll be in the console room, if you need me. The neutron polarisation coupler needs calibratin'."

She feels her stomach descend to somewhere near her toes as he leaves them behind, her eyes wide with shock.

"He doesn't-"

"He can't-"

Their words tumble over each other, almost colliding as they try to speak at the same time.

She looks at Jack and, together, they say the only thing that can ease the sudden panic that fills them, "Nah."

**

END

**  



End file.
